


Drunk Talk

by LittleHoneyPott



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Bartenders, Creepypasta, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Other, Rain, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Sexual Harassment, Stress Relief, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21772267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleHoneyPott/pseuds/LittleHoneyPott
Summary: You are a stressed bartender from an old bar called “Midnight Rambler”. A place where monsters were usual customers.Unfortunately, a violent storm came just as you had to close the bar.Forced to stay inside and wait for it go away past midnight. One last customer comes by. One that you already knew for a long time.Offenderman, the tall, charming, and alcoholic man, has entered the Midnight Rambler once again to drink his problems away.
Relationships: Sexual Offenderman/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 72





	Drunk Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Mention of murder, violence, and sexual abuse.

There is nothing better than spending a cold rainy night inside your home – soft sounds of raindrops colliding on the window, relaxing music playing in the background leading your thoughts far away, along with the warm embrace from thick layers of blankets causing your body to sweetly melt out of comfort –it was the perfect scenario for a stressed mind like mine. All that I needed, and wished for, was at least having a few minutes of rest. Unfortunately, this night I am not watching the rain from my home's window, but instead from the bar's, the Midnight Rambler.

My job mixing and serving drinks at the Midnight Rambler bar is entirely exhausting. The quantity of money I receive per hour for my effort is disappointedly unfair. I live on my own, in a humble apartment that besides its little space, makes me feel welcome in the short time I am not working.  
To pay my rent, I have to cover three of four shifts, which results in almost 15 hours a day during the whole week, except on Sundays. It is the only reason for me to like Sundays.

However, my exhaustion did not affect my professionalism. No matter the time nor the weather, I do the necessary to achieve utter perfection, hoping that one day it will be paid off.

Inevitably, working for such a long, tiring time, can sometimes make my mind wander far away from Midnight Rambler, unintentionally grazing on 'what if's —

"— And then he turned around and I appeared right in front of him! He got so shocked that he passed out instantly! Like, DUDE, you should have seen his face," Nora, one of my most frequent customers, busted out excitedly.

The positive point of working here was meeting its unusual clients. Nora, for example, as lively and cheering as she can be, she is, in fact, dead. Gone, for good. Living as a wandering ghost. But how? Every time I asked her, she would drastically change the topic, or tell an absurd story that could never have happened.

Yet she was right in front of me, talking, drinking, interacting, except she was not. It took me a while to get used to seeing her disappear behind the entrance door, and not reappearing on the outside of the windows as she walks away. Grasping the idea of serving alcohol to an undead can be challenging. For myself, I'm still adapting. Besides, Nora is often very talkative and outgoing, therefore I easily forget about her true self and get along with her well.

I lift my gaze from the glass I was cleaning to glance at her from across the counter, brushing my daydreaming away and blinking slightly.

A soft smile forms on my face as I return to focus on the dirty cup in my hands.

"Sounds like you had fun."

"You have no idea," she said snickering, "He was so jumpy! I mean, a simple 'Good morning' startled him. It was ridiculous — funny — but ridiculous."

Nora then raised her hands in the air defensively, looking away from me.

"But I must admit that I might have purposely made him get to this point."

I rolled my eyes at her, knowing it was typical of her to haunt random individuals for no reason. She saw it as entertainment.

"Really? I could never imagine you doing something like that." I said with a sarcastic tone in my voice.

"Aw c'mon, it was just for fun!" she whined, "Besides, he deserved it. I saw him harassing a girl the other day, along with his friends. He was forcefully lifting her skirt so he could take a picture of her underwear."

As I finished washing the last glass and put it aside, I snapped my gaze at her, gasping in disbelief.

"What a bastard! The hell why would he do that?!"

"YEAH, RIGHT?!" Nora snapped hysterically, her words echoing through the bar so intensely that its vibration almost broke one of the recently cleaned cups. Luckily, she did not attract attention from others. The clock on the wall showed nearly four in the morning, which meant that everyone had gone away, plus, it was time to close the bar.

Shaking my head disapprovingly, I confessed:  
"Alright I take that back, you should have done worst to him. But damn, you do need some alcohol assistance. Here. This one is from me."

She cracked a playful grin, later breaking into a burst of laughter, whilst she leaned forward hitting her fist on the table repeatedly. Her strong arms left punching marks over the entirety counter.

I could not help but giggle softly at the sight of her dramatic reaction. Her laugh was undeniably contagious.

"Good thing they're dead. Now he can be a dick in hell."

"What? What do you mean?" my smile fell and I glanced at her seriously, doubting her revengeful spirit nature, "Did... did you...?"

"Me?! No – no, no, no –" Nora blurted incredulously, then continued, "I picked on them about a week ago, but they were murdered the day after. Not sure by who, though — the news didn't know about the killer."

Shaking my head, I hummed, "I... I see."

As I looked around the bar, I found myself staring at the raindrops gracefully sliding on the window. The thunderstorm blasted loudly whilst rain came violently splashing on the rough concrete.

Don't think I'll be able to go home anytime soon.

I sighed tiredly, turning my vision to check the hour. It was already past three in the morning. Nora noticed worry in my expression and immediately directed her eyes to the wall clock as well, following my gaze.

"I should go... it's getting late," she said as she got up from her chair, "Besides, you must be tired of me by now. I know I talk too much."

I throw at her a sympathetic look, which she gently reassured with a wave of her hand whilst she got near the exit. Lightings flashed out the window aggressively and thunders blasted in my ears, making me worry for my friend.

"Nora, you're going to soak yourself, plus, it's thundering outside! Are you sure?"

"Aw, you're so adorable! Caring about me and stuff! But I'll be fine," she responded lazily, "Don't worry about me so much; it's not like a little rain it's going to kill me."

Before I could protest, Nora disappeared after the wooden doors muttering a friendly "See ye later!".

It was a fact that she would reappear someday later, therefore despite constantly looking after her, as a friend would do, deep down I knew I would see her again. Besides, Nora is tougher than she looks. Nothing (and no one) could harm her that badly.

Sighing hopelessly and tiredly laying my body against the counter, I enjoy the few seconds of break with my head between my folded arms. The silence filled my ears like the music of an orchestra – every minute was precious and made my body gleam in delight. My frame slowly turned all its energy off, relaxing completely. I unintentionally closed my eyes and took a deep breath in relief.

'Don't forget to close the bar when you're done with the clients!'

My boss's voice echoed in my head, interrupting my sleepiness. As I got off the table and grabbed the keys, I head towards the exit with loosely footsteps. Through the door's glass, I could watch the intense storming outside that made me stop in my tracks and wonder — How was I supposed to go home with the weather like this? — My eyes examine the place, looking for answers. We did not have an extra umbrella that day, although it would be dangerous either way to walk home at this hour. The street seemed deserted and no cars passed by.

Then I took my final decision: not going home at all. Fortunately, we had blankets plus some comfortable pillows for these occasions, besides, couch seats are not that bad.

Just as I was to lock the exit, a familiar figure sitting on the sidewalk catches my attention. I immediately open the door wide enough not to get wet, taking a better view of them.

"Offenderman?"

He turns to me with a surprised expression which quickly changed to a pleased smile.

"Oh, hello darling. It's so good to see you," his voice was deep and low, almost inaudible due to the storm. Every time Offenderman opens his mouth, my entire body gets goosebumps. His words were so easily stuck in my mind; All due to his charms.

"Are you okay?" I ask worriedly.

"Better now," he grins wider, showing me his shark pointy teeth. I tediously rolled my eyes at him, while trying to avoid starring at his clear teeth.

"Just come in already! Unless you prefer to —"

"Alright, Alright!"

As Offenderman walked through the entrance and closed the door behind him, I rushed towards the cabinets under the counter.

He eyed me curiously, letting waterdrops fall on the floor's wood while he took his dark hat off. His accessory was the same color of his long black jacket — the ends of it hid his inhuman, and long, pale legs — dark, plus discreet.

Ah, Offenderman, what could I possibly say about him? Another one of my unusual clients who happened to find Midnight Rambler just when it was most needed. Alcohol is the same as water to him, no matter how many beverages I served, he was never satisfied. The night we met, I served him Whisky, — drink after drink, our conversation flowed— Offenderman's first impression to me was the stereotype of a womanizer. An impressive persuasive, charismatic, and confident man whose charming personality could win – or break – anyone's heart if desired. Usually, he would leave the bar at dawn, alongside woman he allured, who he'd never speak with again.

Towel in hands, I approach the tall figure and offer him the thick fabric politely.

"Here, take this," I said to him.

"Well, why thank you — how kind." He murmured.

I grew used to his compliments and kind words, aware these were all it meant to him: words; Nothing else. Meaningless words. I keep my walls up to prevent getting hurt, clearly due to his intentions. But, even with my negative thoughts of him, something always caught my attention.

"Do you have anything for you, though? It's freezing, you must be cold."

Unlike differently from his other lovers, Offenderman cared for me with true affection. He genuinely worries about my well being; it always caught me off guard. This was uncommon for the usual superficial flirty I knew.

"I'm... okay... don't worry about it," I responded airly, "and please dry yourself because I don't want to have to clean this floor again."

He carelessly pats the towel on his jacket a few times as I contour the counter. Thus, the tall man naturally relaxed on the chair opposite me. I stared at him, then asked:

"Since you're here, what do you want to drink today?"

Slightly surprised, Offenderman's shark teeth are exposed to me once again along with his characteristic smile.

"From you, sweetheart, any drink is a paradise. Serve me whatever."

Ignoring his comment, I prepare a strong and bitter beverage like the ones he mostly asks for. My tiredness has not gone away, therefore I had to concentrate not to spill the fluids as these were poured in the mixer — Little bit of this, little bit of that — after shaking the product, the drink was done right in front of the customer, who finished the first glass in one single sip.

"Perfect. As always, of course." He complimented, humming delightedly.

"Thanks," I answer, clueless of how to react to his constant flirting.

"So," he started, "How was your day?"

Faces can say just as much as words, they say. A frown was all it took for Offenderman to shake his head disapprovingly. His smile faded to a more sympathetic one.

"Ah, not so good, I see," he said as I poured more drink into his glass, "Mine wasn't that nice either."

"What happened?" I turned to him right after filling another round. The pale man sighs, tapping his long fingers on the table.

"Family meeting."

Oh.

"I'm getting a bigger glass."

I turn my back to him and head to the top cabinets. A few moments later I offer him a Seidel: the name of a German-style mug as large as a human head, plus thick walls to help maintain a cool temperature. The rest of the drink left in the mixer — still fairly amount of volume — was now in Offenderman's mug, however, the liquid hardly filled half of his glass. As I realized this, my hands automatically worked on a new beverage.

"Ah, yes, that will do," approved him softly, not wasting time to turn his drink as quickly as he could before telling me the details of his day.

"So," he started, "Have I ever mentioned about my family? Because if I did, I probably was too drunk to remember it, and that doesn't happen often."

"I don't think so," I said, trying my best to recall anything on the subject, "You never talked about them to me."

Offenderman shifted in his chair, before continuing:

"Basically, I have three brothers — Trender, Splendor, and Slender — It's just us," I nodded as he spoke, following his reasoning, "We aren't close and don't interact often — but Splendor insists on having meetings at least once per month; he tries very hard to unite us as if at some point we'd all magically understand each other."

"He sounds quite the dreamer," I commented.

"Indeed," he agreed, "And he's extremely optimistic, and cheering if you ask me, — like all the time — pure sunshine, example of the family."

"Is that how you think of him?" I wondered, raising my eyebrows, "Must like him then."

He glanced down at his empty glass, his jet black hat covering most of his face, "Eh. Kind of, yes. I still manage to get along with him mildly well despise our... different tastes."

"I see," my smile was inevitable due to the simple thought of Offenderman having such a positive brother, opposite of his personality. "If that's how you see him, I wonder how they see you as."

"The black sheep," he muttered.

"Really?" I questioned him.

"Yea," his weak, almost unhearable sigh, made my heart sink, "They think I'm a disappointment."

"Don't say that! Offendenderman, they're your family and I'm sure they love you." I comforted.

"That's not how it works, y'know," he scoffed, took a big sip of his drink, then smiled at me, "Aw, but aren't you adorable when you look out for me?"

Funny. I thought. Not the first time people say this to me.

My lack of energy prevented me from expressing my unamusedness — face blank as stone, immune to his charm, — my thoughts remained unreadable by him "Mhm. And how come you never commented about your brothers to me before? For how long do I know you? Five years or so?"

His nonexistent eyes avoided mine, "I don't talk about my family to anyone, opening up is not my specialty," he said.

"Yet you're doing quite well," I stated kindly, "Glad you told me. This kind of stuff can be hard to deal with on your own."

Offenderman stayed quiet for a moment as he gulped down half of his drink.

"I'm aware," he glanced at me with a sincere smile that I have never seen coming from him before, "You're not anyone to me, you know that, right? — I'm happy I can count on you."

I was utterly speechless to his reaction, had he truly exposed his true self? Had he, even for a second, abandoned his womanizer facade?

"Yeah. Sure. Good to know." I managed to mumble out. He shortly redirected the subject.

"Anyway, I'll spare you the details of the meeting. It's always the same. Awkward silences or passive-aggressive bickering, usually from Slender, while Splendor tries to settle it down by offering house-made food."

I agree with understanding, "Was the food good, though?" Offenderman snorted, making me smile in return, "Mildly, I'd say," he says, barely hiding his sarcasm, "He's still learning. Still learning."

"Hah, I see," more drink is put into his cup. He thanks me silently.

"By the way, why were you sitting on the sidewalk back there?" I asked.

"Oh, that. Well I — I was just... thinking..."

"Mhm, thinking...?"

"It's just — I don't know, guess I was just pissed."

"About seeing your brothers?"

"That too," he paused, "But it was also because of something that happened the other day. I was leaving a bar to smoke a cigarette on my own. Like I mostly do, as you know, I like to isolate myself and reflect upon things. It was all chill, until this man suddenly appeared on the sidewalk, talking with a girl at his side. The moment I took my eyes off them, I heard the girl screaming, begging him,"

"LET ME GO!" she pleaded as the man grasped her arm so tightly that left a mark.

"Take your clothes off," He ordered, pointing a pocket knife at her.

"NO — No... please," She panics with tears appearing in her eyes, but soon realizes that there's not much she can do to avoid the situation due to the male's strength. She was the victim, powerless. Afraid and vulnerable. "Please... do you... want money? I'll give you my money! Just leave me alone!"

"I can get your cash _later_ , now do as I say " The man got closer, cornering her, thus showed his shiny blade that was held in his firm hands. He waisted no time to press the knife against the younger's throat.

  
"I'm only repeating myself once: Take. Those. Clothes. Off. Now," he repeated.

  
The girl watched the man in pure shock. Petrified, even. Terrified of what she knew would come next. Tears escaped her eyes as the older one approached further. Her eyelids opened so much that her eyeballs could have jumped off her face. She couldn't believe. She had never felt so much fear in her entire life; it only got worse when a silhouette of a tall man wearing dark clothing appeared behind the harasser.

The man noticed how the environment around him darkened, so as he twisted on his heel to look back —

"— I tore his head off his body using my bare teeth," Offenderman finished, "I haven't felt this much rage for a long time. It took me by surprise, really."

I did not dare share a word. How was I supposed to answer this? Was he the killer that Nora mentioned earlier?

"I hate when people see me as that guy! **I HATE IT**!" he snapped suddenly and breathed heavily with every single one of his sharp teeth shown. **"I AM NOT SOME ASSHOLE WHO RAPES WOMEN WHO DOESN'T WANT TO GO TO BED WITH ME! THEY DON'T WANNA GO SLEEP WITH ME? FINE. HAVE FUN. IT'S AS SIMPLE AS THAT! NO? NO!"** He takes a moment to breathe, "...It's unfair... y'know? I never did anything like that. You know me! You know I'm not like that fucker. But why can't people see that too?"

"They will see, with time," I assured him, "If people get to know you, like I did, they'll see you as who you truly are and who you wish to be." I comforted.

"I hope one day... that happens..."

"It will. I'm sure of it. There's always a chance."

"Thank you... Y/N," he said not louder than a whisper.

We both take a glimpse of the window beside us, staring at the knife rain that was strong as ever despite the time spent. By this moment I simply gave up on the idea of going home. It did not matter to me anymore. However, Offenderman was here with me, and perhaps we were not thinking the same. Kicking him out was not an option I was considering. What was I going to do?

His voice brought me back to earth, "Damn, it just won't go away, will it?" he lamented, "Guess it means that we will spend more time together. How nice."

"You're not stuck here, Offender. If you prefer to go home I won't stop you."

"Nah. This is fine. I have nowhere to go, to be honest. Besides, I like being here with you. Your company is... pleasant."

"But you can't stay here forever —"

"Neither can you," I fell silent, "Are you going to sleep here or something?"

For a second my words failed to leave my mouth. Embarrassment covered my face. He was joking, but it was a sad truth. My lack of response ironically answered his rhetorical question, and he was paralyzed.

"Wait. Is this serious? You're going to sleep here? In this place?"

"What do you mean by that? I cleaned every corner of this bar and you dare to refer it as 'this place'?"

"No, look — it's not like that — that's not what I meant, sorry. It's just that here is not the best place for you to rest. And I know you need it. I noticed how tired you are, and I know you put a lot of effort not to show it, but you won't convince me. You deserve to sleep in an actual bed. Somewhere minimally comfortable for you to lay on."

"The couch seat over there is cozy enough. It's not my first time doing this. I appreciate your worry, but I'm fine." I mumble.

"Alright, you may not believe me, because you're too stubborn, but I can tell you're not fine. So I'm not going to let you do that."

"Offenderman, there is no other option —"

"Of course there is!" he stood up from his chair confidently, "C'mon let's get you ready to sleep!"

"What," I stood still in place, "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to tuck you in, the best way I can. 'Do good things for people you like'. That's how Splendor usually does it. And it works — people like him a lot — so I'm doing the same for you."

"You're drunk, aren't you?"

"I'm always drunk, honey."

We stare at each other without sharing a word.

"Okay. Fine. Just tell me what you want me to do."

Holding as many pillows as he could find using his arms and tentacles, Offenderman arranged a fluffy nest on a long seat close to the window. Nevertheless, the remarkable effort he put on a simple task was not what surprised me. After he finished adding more comfy details, he popped himself on to his masterpiece on his back, then patted his chest.

"Lay here, sweetheart." He said.

I blinked at him doubtfully.

"C'mon," he continued, "I'm not gonna do anything, promise."

Too tired to protest. Not enough patience. Never enough. I just did as he asked.

He was stupidly tall when compared to me. It was scary how he could easily tower over me, but was never intimidating. Never to me. I lay on his warm torso that felt as gentle as the sun's touch on my skin, and his arms surrounded me like long, protective snakes.

"There. Comfortable?" He asked as he admired me sleepily shift on him.

"Meh," I answered lazily, "It's ok." He smiled thankfully.

"Perfect," Offenderman lowered his voice, then turned off the lights barely moving from his original place, with the help of one of his tentacles to reach the switch, "Good night, Y/N," his deep voice echoed.

"'Night," I mumbled.

My vision darkened, and all my stress disappeared. Finally, I had what I needed. Just before my mind shut up, I could swear thin fingers played with my hair locks. Nevertheless, I paid no mind. Too tired to protest. Not enough patience to deny. Never enough of him.

**Author's Note:**

> Hellow dear reader! Thank you for reading this far ♥️ （*'▽｀*） 
> 
> I put a lot of effort to do this one, but I hope it paid off.
> 
> If you think there are points to be improved, as long as you are respectful, criticism is welcome :D


End file.
